


Lakes, Estates, and the Plot Twist

by ghostori



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostori/pseuds/ghostori
Summary: You are a First Order Officer on a routine recon mission to a small moon. Perhaps, if you had just followed orders to a T, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place, and maybe Hux wouldn't be so livid with you.I wrote this live on a Discord server, posting every sentence as soon as I typed it out. I had no plan, and this is the result. It has been edited to fit my standards, but beware of non-canon content, as this literally emerged out of my head line by line at 2 in the morning. I'm pretty proud of this regardless, but you have been warned.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux/You
Kudos: 21





	Lakes, Estates, and the Plot Twist

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this between midnight and 3 a.m. live on the Hux Sluts Discord server. Every line was posted immediately after being written. When I started writing it, I had no idea where the story would end, because it was kind of a joke. This is my brainchild. It’s littered with holes, but it’s the product of a Reese's cup sugar high and Doja Cat blasting in the background, and I love it dearly. It’s surprisingly good, in my opinion. I hope you like it too! Just a note: I did edit this a bit, mostly to remove all the terms like “deadass” and “on Jah” because Star Wars characters do not say those things.

You are a minor officer in the First Order. You were recruited from an academy on Coruscant, where you learned leadership and field skills. Of course, it shocked and hurt you deeply when Coruscant got popped by the very people you work for, but you’re not about to jeopardize your position on the ladder of success by doubting your superior’s decisions.

Your current assignment is a routine search of a small moon. There have been rumors of Resistance presence there, but rumors are rumors, and they cannot always be trusted. Kylo Ren didn’t “sense” anything in the Force (if it even exists in the first place) around this moon, so you doubt you will find anything, but your superiors said a search was warranted anyway. You are assigned eight stormtroopers and a BB unit, all of whom have aided you on missions before. Captain Phasma informs you that your mission is mostly recon and intimidation: get down on the ground, walk around a bit, kill a person or two and see if you can shake out any information. Any Intel found should be reported immediately. After that, return to the star destroyer.

The mission sounds simple enough, so you don’t question it. You don your parade uniform, customary for public missions, and head to your issued shuttle in the landing bay. Your stormtroopers are waiting for you on board, and they nod to you in greeting while you make your way to the cockpit. Travel to this moon takes about an hour, and you hold back a groan when the moon finally comes into sight. It’s a small moon, covered in the smallest of villages. You are surprised it can even support an atmosphere. The surface is peppered with brightly colored lakes, and the terrain is flatter than a datapad. It is a stunningly beautiful planet, but one barely habituated. Your scanners confirm that almost all of the life forms planet-side are concentrated on one spot: the largest village. You instruct your pilot to land there.

Walking off the ship, it seems that everyone in town has emerged to see your arrival. They are almost cowering, and your mood sours further. With the way you are being stared out, you doubt the mission will take very long at all, and you’ll be forced to return to the star destroyer without getting to spend any quality time enjoying the scenery. It is, after all, a beautiful moon. It’s mostly rocky and flat, but the lakes and ponds steam and bubble, giving the air a strange but interesting white noise. You would have liked an excuse to explore. You approach the citizen cowering the most for answers. He cowers further, hiding behind his cloak, so you remove your hand from the handle of your blaster pistol.

“Excuse me. We heard reports of resistance activity on this moon. We don’t  _ want  _ to cause any trouble, but we need information. I strongly suggest you comply.” He nods jerkily in response.

“Yes ma’am. Miss. Sorry, uh- I, personally, don’t know a darned thing, but you see, uh, Cawasul, the bar woman- in, uh, that building over there- she, uh, knows all the gossip and things…” He trailed off, avoiding eye contact and shaking slightly. You nod to the man and walk down the street, waving at your troopers to follow. What a sad, pathetic soul. But you can’t blame him for panicking when a ship that could blast his village off the map touched down in front of him. You indicate for two troopers to stay behind and guard the shuttle.

The tavern is quiet, and a woman is playing a flute in the corner while the patrons sit and talk quietly. You approach the woman at the counter, who is gazing at you uneasily and wiping down a glass. She puts down the glass when you rest your hand on the counter and level your gaze with hers.

“Hello, miss. We don’t get many First Order folks ‘round these parts. We don’t want no trouble. I’ll get you a Coruscant Sunrise, on the house.” You shake your head and frown, suppressing a wince at the mention of your destroyed home planet. You used to order a virgin version of the drink at parties when you were younger, and you do not think you will be able to stomach the nostalgia well.

“We’re not here to drink. Cawasul, yes?” 

Cawasul nods and resumes wiping down her glass.

“We’re here for information, and I was told you could help me. We heard rumors of Resistance visitation here. What do you know? I insist you tell me everything you know, even if it seems irrelevant. I’d rather avoid trouble as well.” Your stormtroopers take the cue, and adjust their blasters loudly in their grip. Cawasul grimaces.

“You got it, miss. There have been rumors floating ‘round about Resistance recon in one of the old estates west of here. If they came at all, they got in and got out real quiet-like. I suppose the visitor could be anyone, but they broke into the vacation home of some old Imperial officer. No locals dare go near that cursed place, so who else could it be than Resistance? I don’t know what they thought they’d find, though. That old mansion has been abandoned for nearly twenty years.

You scratch your head. An old Imperial officer? Perhaps the officer works for the Order now, and that’s why the Resistance decided to check this place out. Perhaps they thought they would find information on repurposed empire resources, like bases and weapons? The answer escapes you, but you figure a trip to the estate would bring you more Intel. You don’t want to return to the star destroyer yet, not with such unreliable information. It’s worth checking out yourself, even if it is circumventing a direct order a bit.

“You’ll find the estate on the edge of the biggest green lake on the moon. It’s a day’s walk to get there, five hours tops on a speeder. With that bigass shuttle o’ yours, I doubt it’ll take you more than twenty minutes. Follow the main path West, and take the third left branch in the road. That’ll take you right down to the mansion, you can’t miss it.

“The estate is on the northern edge of the lake. Enormous, it is. And so isolated, too. I remember they didn’t like people much. But all the local children would sneak over on the weekends and try to peek at the family. They had the most stunning red hair, as I recall. Most people here have got brown or black, you see, and we don’t get many off worlders. They were a bit of an oddity to be sure. Be careful when you visit, miss. That estate has a comm jammer ranging the size of its grounds, tripled. It’s some getaway spot, I’ll tell ya, but that’s all I know. Good luck, miss.

Cawasul nods to you, and then walks away into the back room. You summon your troops back to your side and march out of the tavern, bee lining for the shuttle. Stunning red hair, huh? Sounds familiar. But many people in the galaxy have red hair. You doubt the family is the one you suspect, but it's rather funny to entertain the prospect anyway. As you board the shuttle, a little General Hux runs around your imagination, sporting bruised knees and dirty play clothes, chasing the wind between the colorful ponds and lakes of this strange, rainbow moon.

The shuttle takes ten minutes to arrive, and you suddenly understand what she meant by interference. The closer you get to the massive green lake, the more your comms begin to fuzz and break. “Trooper, send our coordinates to the Order as a place of interest before our connection is lost for good. We’re landing in two.”

The estate really is the perfect getaway. The green lake is truly beautiful, like stained glass reflecting the sun. The mansion itself is made of white stone, and the plants in the gardens surrounding it have long since grew untamed. They had developed minds of their own over the years, and now grew whimsically all over the building like enormous snakes. The shuttle lands quietly, and golden dust stirs where the ship touches down. A trooper to your right turns to address you.

“Sir, we’re detecting an extreme influx in static. Someone is trying to reach us.”

You roll your eyes. You made it this far, you’re sure as hell not turning back now.

“Take the comm and YD-346 and start walking back up the path. See if you can receive the transmission, then come straight back for further instruction.”

“Yes, sir!” The pair salutes and marches back up the path towards the ship.

Being such a small spot on a small moon with little to no interaction with the rest of the galaxy truly did make it an excellent vacation spot. Come to think of it, Hux’s father was an Imperial officer, right? Maybe there is a possibility that the estate could be his family’s. How interesting this mission is turning out to be! The stormtroopers seem to have caught on, because one of them gathers his courage and asks for permission to speak freely. You grant it.

“Uh- do you think that this mission might be a bit… I dunno… invasive, sir? If this is going where I suspect- and I can’t really confirm, because I’ve only heard rumors, but this sounds an awful lot like the General’s family? He might be… mad… if we visit his old vacation home? Because, you know, he killed his father. Allegedly, of course.”

You are quick to admonish the trooper for his assumptions, but internally you wholeheartedly agree. However, you don’t have enough evidence to confirm that the estate was his father’s, so you push the mission forward regardless. You had direct orders to gain resistance Intel, and you will carry it out. You will cross the Hux bridge when- and if- you get to it. You call for your troops to follow you to the front door. It is locked, of course, but that is no issue. You knock sharply on the front doors, and you can hear them echo inside.

“I am an officer of the First Order! I have reason to believe this estate has been used by Resistance forces! Open the door  _ at once _ , or I shall enter by force!”

Your cries are met by complete and utter silence. Perfect. You turn to your troops.

“Shoot the locks. Quickly!”

The troopers crowd the door as you step back, and within a few minutes, the door is open. You lead the charge inside. The first thing you notice is the dust: lots of it. It coats the floor, the rugs, and a mousedroid by the door. It’s been long dead by the looks of it, overturned and coated with a generous layer of grime. Even so, a line of footprints, with a slimmer coating of dust, disappear into the depths of the house before looping back and moving out the door. Bingo. The next thing you notice is an enormous pillar in the middle of the foyer. It seems to be the only electronic appliance in the estate that still worked, as a small panel embedded in the side twinkled with red lights. The troopers inspect it carefully while you frown at it. Your tech trooper points at the panel.

“Sir, this pillar is what’s causing the interference. It’s a comm jammer, and really high range. I’m amazed it’s still in working condition.” You raise your eyebrow, and cock your head at the pillar.

“Leave it alone. That’s been around since the Imperial family lived here, and it’s not doing any harm yet. If the troopers at the ship get a comm from command, they’ll come back and let us know. Fortunately, I think we’re alone here. But I’d rather not destroy property. Follow me.”

You follow the footprints, careful to not disturb the evidence of resistance arrival. The prints guide you through many rooms, most of which are only barely searched. The kitchen was rather large, with two of every appliance and a large island in the middle. There are a few cutting boards and jars about, but that’s it. The lounge looked stiff and uncomfortable, with firm looking chairs arranged expertly around a fire pit in the center of the room. An air vent hung from the ceiling above to guide smoke out of the room. Instruments lined the walls. The library is probably the most interesting stop, as books and datapads littered nearly every surface, including the floor. You don’t think you have ever seen so many books in your entire life, let alone in one room. The rebels were looking for Intel alright, they just didn’t know where to find it. As your troopers sweep the room for clues, you peruse the book titles in a moment of self indulgence.  _ The Economic Benefits of War _ ,  _ Studies in Intimidation,  _ and  _ Order in the Senate,  _ among others. You pick a miniature book off a toppled stack, titled  _ Leaders Explained: Field Guide on the Minds of Galactic Politicians _ . You tuck the book into your breast pocket. 

At that moment, your BB unit begins to beep wildly. You walk back to the door, and watch as your BB unit shifts nervously about the window. Peering out the window, you spot your pair of stormtroopers instructed to receive the transmission sprinting towards the estate as if death itself is on their heels. Your alarm increases when you watch one topple over, but the other continues to run, ignoring their comrade’s predicament. Your troopers rush with you back to the main foyer to address the runners. The pair collapses at the door, all decorum gone. They rip off their helmets to breathe properly, and your eyes widen imperceptibly.

“Explain yourselves, troopers! Taking your helmets off without permission in the field is grounds for reconditioning!”

The troopers gather themselves and haul their bodies upwards, onto their feet.

“Officer,” one pants, wiping the sweat from his brow, “it’s the General. He’s trying to comm you directly. He’s  _ really mad,  _ sir.”

Your heart drops. This is way above your pay grade. He is going to  _ flay you alive, and hang your skin on the remnants of Coruscant. _

“Destroy the comm jammer.”

Your troopers stand still, paralyzed by the bombshell that just dropped.

“I DID NOT STUTTER!”

Your troopers jump to attention and move to surround the pillar, blasters aimed, waiting only for your order.

“ _ FIRE! _ ”

The pillar falls in a rain of dust and stone, and a trooper leaps out of the way of its fall.

As if they flipped a switch, 10 comms burst to life, screeching with a terrifying vengeance for their attention. The troopers cried out in alarm and clawed at their helmets, pulling them off to escape the cacophony. As the noise surrounds you, you suddenly feel like a stormtrooper again. Small. Disposable. You are frozen in fear, staring at the comm in your hand that will not stop screaming. You totally should not have come here. You were overstepping your boundaries. You should have trusted the pieces laid before you, and reported the new information immediately. But of course, you just had to play at Admiral  _ again. _

You imagine sitting in that bright white room again, listening to that internal monologue of regret like you did the last time, and the time before that. Will you never learn your lesson? You pull the book from your coat, and set it gently on a panel table in the hall. You flip open your comm, mouth open to greet the caller. But he hisses before you can even squeak.

“ _ Officer. _ At last, you answer my comm. I’ve been waiting over an hour, you know. Did your superior not give you orders to report back any and all information  _ immediately?” _

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Yes, sir. She did, sir.”

You can see his snarl in your mind’s eye, furious eyes staring down at you as if you were a spot of mud on his impeccably polished boots.

“Then  _ why  _ did you not report to Captain Phasma  _ immediately  _ upon receiving this information? Information you acted upon  _ without permission from your superiors.” _

You are frozen to the spot, and you can feel the tears in your eyes welling up, and you suddenly appreciate the lovely flecks of dust floating in the air, illuminated by the light coming through the windows. How beautiful. You wonder if you will ever see such a sight again after you are punished for your hastiness.

“I don’t have an excuse, sir. I acted rashly, without warrant. I should not have invaded your family’s privacy without first consulting the Order.”

Your stormtroopers begin making huge, silent abort gestures with their arms. One is burying her face in her hands. Shit. Hux never said this place was related to him. You just assumed. Again. You close your eyes and stare at the ceiling. You are so, totally fucked.

“Officer,” he hissed, “what makes you think this has  _ anything to do with me?” _

“I- I’m sorry I assumed again, sir. I heard rumors about a location on this moon and jumped to conclusions when I should not have. I very, very deeply regret doing so, sir.”

You can hear his huff of annoyance through the speaker.

“You are either very perceptive, or  _ extremely  _ stupid. Perhaps both. Yes, the estate upon which you currently stand, and which you were so kind as to  _ vandalize _ , and to which I am currently en route to in order to meet you  _ personally,  _ is my father’s former vacation home.”

Your hands begin to shake, and you almost drop the comm. A trooper runs out the door and stares up at the sky. He points, and your gaze follows his finger. A star destroyer looms high above you, fresh out of hyperspace.

“While I am absolutely revolted by the brashness of your actions, I must admit that I derive some pleasure from the knowledge that you destroyed a part of his prized home to receive my call. I am sure you have heard about my father, yes? ”

You nod.

Then you realize he cannot hear your nod through a comm.

“Yes, sir.”

“Please, do tell me what you have heard.”

You cringe, but clear your throat anyway.

“I… I heard that you killed him, sir.”

“Indeed, officer. My father angered me deeply, and I  _ slaughtered him with my own hands.” _

Your own hands begin to shake harder. Your BB beeps, and communicates that a shuttle has left the star destroyer and is cruising down to the estate.

“I am almost at your location, Officer. Do not move.”

You hear fuzz as he hangs up. You close the comm and swallow deeply as you slip it back into your pocket.

One of your troopers clears his throat behind you: “You might jump to conclusions, sir, but you’re a damn good leader.”

“We have your back, sir!” Another pipes up. 

You feel a little choked up as you stare at the shuttle growing steadily bigger as it approaches the lake. Your trooper’s support is welcomed, but it didn’t do much to dispel the sense of your impending doom. As the cruiser lowers, you wonder at how quiet this whole affair is at the moment. The ship lands quietly, and troopers stream out and take up guard positions, as is standard protocol. You’re almost surprised that you don’t hear the crack of his boots against the metal ramp from across the lake. All you can see from the opposite side of the lake is a stripe of black, sharp edges, topped with a warm spot of orange. He looks so small from here. Harmless. He summons two stormtroopers to his side with a wave of his hand, and begins his agonizingly slow march around the lake, to where you stand just outside the front door of his father’s house.

You watch his figure grow and the details of his figure show themselves. First you see the curled fists, then the narrowed eyes, and then the pursed lips. His march is automatic, rehearsed, almost robotic. He is stiffer than you have ever seen him on the bridge, save for when he is in Kylo Ren’s presence. You stiffen even further as he approaches you, and you stare straight ahead, into the horizon. Your troopers leave your side, and take their proper places behind you. One pats your shoulder as she passes. You close your eyes, and brace for a blaster shot between the eyes. Or perhaps it will go through your heart, or maybe even your stomach for a more painful death. But it never comes, and instead you feel the brush of a shoulder against yours as he pushes past you and walks into the mansion. This time, you can hear the clack of his boots.

“Follow me, officer. Quickly. Troopers, stay here.”

If it’s even possible, you are even more shell shocked than before. You must be imagining things. He’s probably going to shoot the back of your head, to inspire extra fear.

“Did I  _ stutter,  _ Officer?”

“No, sir!” you squeak, and turn on your heel to follow him. Your face flushes as you remember saying the same line barely five minutes before. Oh, how the tables have turned. He guides you through the estate, moving swiftly through the halls and rooms with a pace that quickly indicates to you his familiarity with the house. The General stops abruptly in front of a closed door to the side, small and made of scuffed wood. You hadn’t even noticed it in your brief sweep of the house.

He pushes the door open with gusto, revealing the smallest bedroom you have ever seen. To enter, you would have to stoop down. You are surprised furniture fits inside at all. A cot is in one corner, with a dresser to the immediate left. A child’s table covered in small model fighters made of metal scrap rests at the foot of the bed. There is no carpet, no window, and the only light fixture is a lamp, toppled over beneath the bed. He closes the door almost as quickly as he opens it, and points down at the door handle.

“Observe this, Officer, as you seem so adequate at being invasive to the point of treason.”

You look down at the handle, which is small and far from flashy. But what strikes you as off is the small raised button on the front.

“It is a lock, sir. A very old manual one, not powered at all. To be expected on such a primitive moon. There aren’t many mechanics here. But… it’s on the wrong side of the door.”

“Indeed, officer. This way.”

He walks briskly away from the tiny room and down the hall, and motions for you to enter another room at the end of the hall. This door is carved and ornate, and much more stylized than the bedroom door. A small voice in your head suspects the little room once belonged to Armitage, but you dare not comment. This room is drowning in books, similarly to the library. A huge desk sits in the center of the room with a menacing chair stationed behind it.

“This was my father’s study, Officer. Notice anything else odd?”

You carefully step through the stacks of books and peer hesitantly around the room, but only the books seem to catch your eye. You peer at the titles.

_ Raising a Soldier _

_ Fear and its Place in Leadership _

_ Ethics Versus Discipline; or When to Ignore them for the Greater Good _

_ Lessons in Fascism from Ancient Folktales _

You gulp as you take in the titles, which range from politics to discipline to warfare and ancient literature.

“If I may, sir… the books seem to be quite morbid?”

His voice is cold when he responds.

“Yes, officer. Morbid indeed. This man was my father, mind you. This estate is a time capsule untouched by outsiders for decades, until you decided to chase a resistance ‘rumor’ onto my property without permission from command.”

You’re a little bit shocked by his words. Untouched by outsiders? Surely the resistance counts as outsiders. There were footsteps left in the hall! Unless…?

“You have been here before, haven’t you, sir? Recently.”

“Perhaps.”

He leaves the room, and you follow the sound of his boots on stonework, eyes trained downwards. What the hell is going on? It’s like he’s giving you a tour of his childhood.

“I destroyed your home planet, you know.” You stop in your tracks, and you feel your blood run cold as you shudder. Your speculation ceases as you wait for him to elaborate.

“It was I who gave the order. How does that make you feel? Be honest. You haven’t got much left to lose.”

At the reminder of your loss, you frown and feel the stress bring tears to your eyes, tears you thought you had exhausted for your planet long ago.

“It makes me feel ill, sir. I don’t like to think about it. It was the most awful thing I have ever witnessed.”

He stops in his tracks, and turns slowly to face you. His expression is blank.

“Very bold of you to admit, especially to the General who ordered its destruction. I could have you killed for that.”

You nod, and stare at a scratch on the floor.

“I know, sir. I figured I would die anyway.”

You watch the tips of his boots enter your vision, and feel a cold finger lift your chin. His eyes are green and grey, and they pierce your own like knives.

“You inspire the most loyalty I have ever seen in stormtroopers, and yet, you disobey orders seemingly every month. At least, according to your file. You have been through reconditioning  _ three times. _ ”

His expression as he stares at you changes, and his furrowed brows relax while his tightly pursed lips open into a labored sigh. You watch as the seething fury drains from his expression, morphing his face into the picture of solemnity and weariness. He almost appears as though he is gazing beyond you, into space. He takes your hand and presses something from his pocket into your palm. He leans close, and speaks quickly but quietly into your ear.

“You saw what my father is like, what he stood for. I stood for it once, too. I smote your planet to escape his shadow. I do not think I regret it yet. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful, even more so than Kylo Ren, or even the Supreme Leader himself. But at the same time, I want people like my father dead on the ground. I want Kylo Ren dead on the ground. You inspire your troops, and go with your gut. Your trooper’s loyalty is proof enough. They practically beg to be assigned to you.  _ The Resistance needs leaders like you. _

_ “ _ This chip contains coordinates to a resistance base. It was meant for my own escape, should I ever be discovered. But I am dead weight to the Resistance. I’d rather die on the hill I built than in the jail cell of Kylo Ren’s mother. This information is better off with you. Gather your troopers. Get out of here. I will provide an excuse for your departure. After that, you are on your own. If they learn of your betrayal, they will destroy you. If they learn of mine, I will destroy you first.” He leans away, leaving the chip clenched in your hand. His melancholy had faded back into a tight scowl, and he whirled around, coat flaring. 

“Follow me, officer. I must administer your ‘punishment.’”

You are spellbound, starstruck, shocked, grateful,  _ oh so grateful. _ You finally have an escape. An escape to a place where you can finally demand respect, but be loved as well. A place where you can mourn for your planet. Publicly, and unashamed. A place where your skills will avenge your home and bring both peace  _ and  _ justice.

“Hux,” you call out after his retreating figure. He stops, and glances behind.

“Come join us, please. When you’re ready. I’ll be waiting. I can’t redeem you, and I don’t really want to, considering what you’ve done to me and my home. But I might be able to get you another shot.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but it is quickly smoothed back over into a cold, hard, stare.

“That is  _ General  _ Hux to you, officer,” He hisses.

“Your blatant insubordination and disregard for First Order protocol warrants both your own and your troops’ immediate reconditioning on a planet far, far away from the Order’s fleet. I will inform my counterparts of your punishment and your demotion. Board your ship and get out of my sight, trooper.”

He marches away, and you smile down the hall as his coat flares around the corner and out the door to where your troopers wait for you, and your future together.

Finis


End file.
